


Conference Call

by istillfearkanna



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, Humor, I COULDN'T GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD, It's a tiny little nothing fic written for the sake of like one joke don't judge me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9598556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/istillfearkanna/pseuds/istillfearkanna
Summary: If Viktor had managed to sneak in a call to Yakov before Yuuri's free skate in China, it may have gone a little something like this...





	

"Help me, Yakov! You're my only hope!" 

"Vitya!" The old coach growled into his phone. "What did I tell you? I don't want to see your face until you are ready to beg me to salvage your career from the gutter!"

Smirking to himself, Viktor shut off his camera. "There. No face. Will you help now?"

Yakov shut off his own camera so he could massage his temples without Viktor seeing it. Even pushing his thirties, Viktor was still such a child. "Georgi is about to skate, Vitya. What could possibly be so important?"

There was a long pause, every microsecond of it making Yakov exponentially more nervous. "So, as a coach, what would you do if you were hypothetically trying to motivate a student with extreme anxiety and you decided that the best way to do that was to pretend you were going to shatter their dreams if they failed?"

Yakov dropped back into the wall, sliding down to a bench, ignoring a concerned look from Georgi. "Vitya, out with it! What did you do to that boy?!"

"I may have told him that I would step down as his coach if he missed the podium?"

"And what did he do then?" Yakov growled, forcing himself to remain calm. He was going to have another ulcer after this, he could tell. At this point his students had caused so many he was literally dedicating each one to the student who caused it and adding his medical bills to the coaching fees. Viktor had by far caused the most, though Yuri stood a good chance of surpassing him before he was done.

"He may have cried. A lot. And also yelled at me."

"Vitya," the weary old coach groaned. "What did I tell you on your twenty-fifth birthday?"

"Uh....."

_"Vitya, if you decide to retire and become a coach, this is the most important advice you could ever hope to get: if you have a student with extreme anxiety, never, ever try to motivate them by threatening to shatter their hopes and dreams if they fail."_

"...that could have meant anything. Also, you were really drunk."

"How could it mean anything else, Vitya? It applies to this exact situation!"

"Yeah, about that, why would you give me advice that specific? Theoretically specific," he added, remembering his earlier excuse.

_"Georgi Popovich, I swear to god, if you miss the podium today I am going to give your program to Viktor and tell that girl you've been seeing about the pictures all over your locker!"_

"...it's not important," The American boy's free skate scores were finally in. Georgi would be on in moments. "Vitya, we're out of time. Tell me, what did you do when he started crying?"

"I may have offered to kiss him - "

"VITYA!"

" - but he said all I had to do was believe in him more than he believes in himself...and stay close to him."

Ah. Yakov knew Viktor well, and that phrase probably hit him right in the gut. No wonder he was scared enough to make this call. "Then do it, Vitya. Just stay by his side. You believe in the boy, yes?"

"More than anything," Viktor sighed, and Yakov knew more than ever that the boy was a goner.

"Then show him that. You should tell him, too, even though he may not believe you. Just encourage him to be the best he can be and for god's sake, Vitya, never do what you did again, to anyone, ever."

"I have been doing that, Yakov, I don't feel like it's enough."

"I've seen the Katsuki boy skate before, under Celestino. Yesterday, he performed so far beyond my expectations I honestly believed you may not be terrible at this," Yakov said, briefly opening a window to his soul before slamming it shut. "Although today you proved exactly the opposite."

"You really think I'm a good coach?" Viktor sounded like he might cry.

Georgi looked at him expectantly. Yakov turned the camera back on for a brief moment. "Vitya, listen to me. You don't have to do anything right now. Just be there for him, and when he is ready, you apologize to that boy until your throat is hoarse. Do you understand?"

Viktor's camera flickers back on as well. His eyes shine dangerously in the backstage lights. "Thank you, Yakov. I don't know what I would do without you."

"You'd be in a St. Petersburg gutter, probably," Yakov grumbled. "Good luck, Vitya. I don't want my students competing against damaged goods. We expect good competition out of you two."

He switched off his phone, relishing the shock in Viktor's face at that moment. After seeing Georgi off, he started to walk towards the kiss and cry, resenting how far it was from the gate. Georgi performed below his expectations yet again, and Yakov wondered how qualified he was to be giving advice about heartbreak. Georgi was clearly not emotionally prepared to return to the ice just yet...and it's not like Yakov had handled things with Lilia very well either. Still, Georgi wouldn't have even made it this far at all had if Yakov not learned to treat his histrionics with some degree of fatherly affection. If Viktor truly wasn't as selfish as he used to be, perhaps this could work out after all.

Watching Viktor clumsily interact with his charge, he was equal parts amused and disappointed to see the Japanese boy simultaneously comfort and vex his coach. It was very familiar, and yet it reminded him how far Viktor had to go as a coach.

Still, one quadruple flip later, Yakov felt himself swelling with nearly as much pride as he had when Viktor first mastered the move a decade ago. Perhaps Viktor didn't have as far to go as he thought. If Viktor could prove to be as good a coach as he was a skater and choreographer, Yuuri Katsuki would rule the skating world.

Yakov couldn't help but smile, knowing perfectly well he was at least partly responsible for Katsuki's sudden success...and quietly hoping he'd furthered their personal relationship, too. At this age Yakov was more than ready for tiny adopted pseudo-grandchildren skating around his rink.


End file.
